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Discover weekly, the best short stories

Looking for a steady supply of suspense short stories? Every week thousands of writers submit stories to our writing contest.

8790+ Suspense Short Stories to read

Submitted by writers on Reedsy Prompts to our weekly writing contest. From bizarre characters to creeping threats, this collection of suspense short stories gives you an exciting array of bone-chilling tales.

Suspense Short Stories – Page 3 of 587

"What time is it?"

Submitted to Contest #297

I sent a pillow flying into my brother’s face. “Oi. Wake up.”From the tangle of limbs and bedsheets in front of me came a low moan. “Leave me alone.”I tossed his sheets to the side. “No can do. Shop opens in five.”Slowly, Noah inched his eyelids open, squinting up at my fully dressed figure. “Can you handle on your own today? I’m not feeling so good.”My first instinct was to scoff in his face and throw him his apron, but on second glance he did look pretty miserable. His eyes were red and watery, nose rubbed raw. His dark, curly hair which s...

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11:33

Submitted to Contest #297

I have 24 hours, exactly 24 hours until she’s killed. The ransom note asking for $100,000 sits on my kitchen counter staring at me as a bead of sweat drips down my forehead. I reach for my phone and begin to dial 911 but before I hit call, I stop. The note said don’t call the police, whoever “J.R.” is, he’s listening, that’s what the note says. I turn my wrist towards me to look at my watch, 11:34, I have exactly 23 hours and 59 minutes left to save my sister.When I was only 10, my parents left the house and never returned. They left me with...

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Any Elsewhere

Submitted to Contest #297

“Do you have the time?” The words drifted over me like clouds before a hurricane. My mind was elsewhere. It wouldn’t be long now. As the sweat pooled in the channels etched into my aging mug, and began to overflow, the gentleman tried again. “Excuse me sir, do you have the time?” One drop hit the floor as the train lurched to a halt. A half dozen passengers poured into the car as I stared blankly ahead. How many stops were left? My eyes darted to the map on the adjacent wall as the gentleman, exasperated, tried his luck with a new target. A ...

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What Waits in Winter

Submitted to Contest #297

What Waits in WinterBy: Emily Chancey Pure white snow embraced the world beyond Katherine’s isolated ranger station, each flake a silent trespasser. She stared into the dense woods, a memory nagging at the back of her mind; a tale the older rangers told of voices on the wind, carried in by the first snow. A trick of the cold air, they had said. The radio crackled to life just after midnight, breaking the six hours of dead silence just as the season's first snow began to embrace the world beyond the windows. The sound came suddenly, startlin...

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Just a heartbeat away

Submitted to Contest #297

TickTOCK TickTOCKTickTOCK _________________For 72 years Phil Turner’s heart performed soundly; idling at 59 bpm then revving up to 180 bpm when chasing after a ball or an opponent, or when tactically retreating from an imminent snake encounter. Now, 37 minutes into urgent abdominal surgery, Phil’s ticker failed. Phil is a habitually fit human being. For longer than he can remember, he has been involved in strenuous sporting pursuits, playing competitive cricket until age 65 until Covid 19 shutdowns called an extended drinks break. Phil p...

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Twelve Past Noon

Submitted to Contest #297

TWELVE PAST NOON“Excuse me, ma’am, what time is it?”“It’s twelve past noon. Quick, here he comes!” The woman said, pointing towards the road. Ryder tilted his head back in frustration. Twelve past noon? He was supposed to be here by 10:30. Part of him was expecting this; his boss had given him the oldest, most overworked, raggediest time-jumper in the hangar. All of his years working with this company, all of the vigilante time-travelers he’d stopped from ruining all of history, and they couldn’t even reserve him a time-jumper tha...

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Snow blanket

Submitted to Contest #297

[TW references to violent crime]Snow A blow He was dead It was over I thought for a while about that I turned it over like dirt The fact that I was a killer I had known him, after all, for a long time The past tense fitting over us like a gloveHe the past and I the tense, a murderer nowIt was a simple enough formula, myself plus him plus blunt objectIt was the blankness of the snow that I couldn’t deal withIt hurt me to look at it white, unsullied still by his spreading bloodUnsullied. Yes, I must return to an unsullied state. Calm now, medi...

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Floor 6 At 0444

Submitted to Contest #297

Rain streaked down the passenger window in wandering tracts, distorting the world beyond into liquid shadows. The windshield wipers groaned with every pass—an endless, squeaking rhythm like a slow exorcism. Staff Sergeant Solomon Reaves, last of his line, sat hunched in the passenger seat, eyes vacant, mumbling a spiral of fractured scripture. “Hail Mary, full of grace… the Lord is with thee… Our Father, who art in heaven… For God so loved the world… I am the messenger…”The words bled into each other—half prayers, half code. Some in brok...

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Time is Ticking

Submitted to Contest #297

He brushed past her already running late. His mind encapsulated with the back-to-back meetings this afternoon held. Instantly mesmerized by the drift of a delicate scent, he stopping dead in his tracks. He slowly spun his head towards the sensuous scent wafting perilously into his nostrils. Focusing his vision on the woman at the café bar, his body erupted with passion. All meetings and deadlines vanished from his consciousness as he strode towards his prize with outstretched hand. Tapping her shoulder lightly he inquired, “Do you have the t...

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Time Only Stands Still for Some.

Submitted to Contest #297

Every Friday, after the congregational prayers at the community mosque, Leila would walk the 2-mile distance to the Muslim graveyard. She would have to walk around the rectangular building of the mosque, its banality always catching her by surprise. The chair people of the local Islamic society, forwent the carved minarets of their ancestors for a grey-bricked veneer of an office building. To avoid any spontaneous vandalism. The thought of confused islamophobes looking for a stereotypical place of worship, then giving up and going home, made...

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At Some Point

Submitted to Contest #298

"I feel like I've had anxiety since that day." I say as I look around the office at the geometric paintings on the walls. I shake my head, "I can't flip a switch."There is a long drawn breath from the other side of the room from a tall thin women sitting crossed legged, who calls herself my therapist."Is that what you believe?""It's what I know. How do I start to open up and trust people again?""At some point you will have to give someone a chance to gain trust."The thin woman lifts her stick arm and glances are her tiny watch."This was prod...

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The Weight of Secrets

Submitted to Contest #297

"What time is it?" Rachel whispered, her voice barely breaking the stillness of the house.The grandfather clock replied with its steady pendulum, each tick reverberated like an echo of her growing anxiety. The house, once a haven of quiet comfort, now felt like a vacuum, its silence amplifying every creak of the floorboards and groan of the wooden beams.Rachel stood in the dim kitchen, her hand trembling as she held a cup of chamomile tea. It had grown cold unnoticed, while her pulse quickened and the minutes dragged on.Jack was late. Not ju...

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Seconds Bleed: Time Ticks Backward, and You're Next

Submitted to Contest #297

Elliot Voss held a grudge against digital files—they hid their flaws too well—but the unmarked drive begged him to grab it. He tapped his fingers—3-2-1-pause—a nervous tic from years of counting seconds. He’d spotted it at a flea market on a gloomy Saturday, half-buried under a tarp with warped VHS tapes and a busted Walkman, its scuffed shell buzzing faintly in his grip. The vendor, a haggard man with yellowed teeth, gave a lazy shrug. “Dug it out of a dumpster. Five bucks.” Elliot paid cash and brought it back to his apartment, a dim tangl...

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Five

Submitted to Contest #297

Numbers swirl around me. My vision is clouded by symbols and faded images. Paper flaps and crumbles by my ear. Wind races around, pulling my hair and throwing the numbers into even more chaos. No matter where I turn, the chaos follows. Escape. Where is the escape? “Please!” I cry into the wind. My words only anger the force playing with me. The wind picks up, throwing me off my feet and destroying my senses. Soon, all the numbers and symbols disappear, but in their place, another takes form.Five. Five. Five. Nothing, but five. This goes on ...

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23:57:06 - A few minutes before the End - Story of the race of the minutes and my inner voices

Submitted to Contest #297

I can’t believe the time is almost up. Just a few minutes and everything is going to be over. Here it comes, midnight is lost and I have to rush to get to bed and close my eyes prior to midnight! And if I manage to accomplish that everything will be OK. If I pass the time awake just one minute after the day is over it would be like entering a new dimension and all that happened during the day will be erased, everything! Absolutely everything! And everyone…since the boy riding a bike this morning delivering papers until the love of my life wh...

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RBE | Illustrated Short Stories | 2024-06

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